Monday, April 16, 2012

If My Obituary Read "Death by Hummingbird" - 16/30

Today's poem: true story, brah. 

If My Obituary Read "Death by Hummingbird" 

It flew from a fruitless thicket
with the speed to fell a Philistine,
a miniscule kamikaze clad in emerald,
ruby and nacre.

And something in the trees sung
like the song a swinging gate would
whistle into the night on hinges weary
and red with rust.

And all of spring seemed to preen
and flaunt peacocky verdure as I thought
these wilds delightful, and a bullet undetected
took flight to call my bluff.

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